Discipline
by DestroyShelbeyy
Summary: Elizabeth Strong is a bright, confident, beautiful young woman. She is also a Dominatrix to the wealthy and powerful of Detroit, Michigan. Her most famous client just so happens to be a starting pitcher for the Detroit Tigers. They have been able to keep their activities quiet but what happens when an unsuspecting catcher starts to ask questions?
1. An Introduction

Sex. It seems to be all anyone ever thinks about these days. From the models on the cover of Sports Illustrated to the "bitches" and "hoes" in the latest rap music video. Sex is a natural part of life-everyone pretty much agrees on that. It can be beautiful and passionate. It can be one of the most fun parts of a relationship. It can be used as a weapon and used as an expression. It can between two total strangers or the longest lasting couple. It can powerful. It can be life-changing. It can even be a job.

I'm a pro-domme (or better known to the non-BDSM community, a Dominatrix). I am from Grand Rapids, Michigan but I live in Detroit. I am twenty-four years old and I have been a pro-domme for two years. One may wonder what possesses a young, seemingly attractive girl to have such a... _risqué_ job. One may also wonder what my friends and family think of it. My parents have pretty much accepted that their once-innocent middle child has sprung into a "sexual deviant" (by society's standards). I just don't usually bring up work at the Thanksgiving table.

My obsession for sex began young. I was molested by a friend's dad when I was five. I didn't know it was abuse at the time; I actually enjoyed it. It made me feel good-and that is something that I have had to come to terms with. I remember being six-years-old and having lavish sexual fantasies about Batman. I grew up with these fantasies, my partner changing as my interests did. It all really got more intense when I hit puberty and began to explore my body. I began masturbating a month before my fifteenth birthday and watching pornography started not long after that. Ironically, I didn't have my first kiss until I was seventeen. I constantly thought about sex throughout my adolescence. I would think up these crazy scenarios with my favorite band member or actor. It made me happy and I saw no harm in that.

Even though I'm obsessed with sex, it doesn't make me a whore. I've only had a few sexual partners since my first boyfriend during my senior year of high school. I really keep to myself and I am not much of a "partier." I came to Detroit for school. I began my bachelor's degree at Mercy, eventually wanting to become a physician's assistant. By the end of my fourth year, I was sick of it; so I stopped going and ventured into the BDSM community.

Now, living in Detroit and being a pro-domme, I meet some pretty interesting people. I have a website that people can get my contact information from. High-class business men, married couples trying to spice things up-I get a lot of different situations. But my most famous and fascinating client is surprisingly... Max Scherzer, starting pitcher for the Detroit Tigers. Yes, it's true. Maxwell is into the freaky shit. Our... _relations_ began about a year ago. We have been able to keep it quiet the entire time (knock on wood). It's most riskiest when he flies me out while he is on the road because he needs a fix.

One may wonder what causes a man like Max Scherzer to need such... _aggressive_ techniques. He may look tough and smooth out on the mound and one may _think_ he should be cocky and boisterous but in reality, he doesn't want to be that way. He likes the submissive role because it keeps him grounded. I get a lot of guys like that. He and I have never had actual sex-I just smack him around with a riding crop or latch him to the bed with handcuffs and he gets off on it. I'm _not_ a prostitute.


	2. A Close Call

_I can't believe you're actually making me do this_, I text Max.

_Come on. I need this. I'll pay you double,_ he replies.

I sit for a moment, pondering his offer. _Fine. Where do you want me to meet you?_

_I already sent a car. Should be there any minute._

I sigh and get up from my seat at the airport. I grip the handle of my black snakeskin suitcase and begin to walk toward the exit, my heels clacking against the tile floor. Max _insisted_ that I come see him while he was in Cleveland playing the Indians. I must say, it's not as crazy or as far as other trips I have taken for him. I really shouldn't complain-I mean, he _is_ paying me extra.

A warm breeze smothers my face and blows my black curls behind me as the sliding doors open for me. I scan the area, looking for my driver. I spot him and walk over, smiling.

"Hello," I say kindly, stepping beside the door.

"Hello, Miss Strong. Welcome to Cleveland." The driver-an older white man wearing a black suit-opens the backseat door for me, then taking my suitcase to put in the trunk. "Where to?" He asks, looking at me through the rearview mirror.

"Do you know if there are any Cirilla's around here?" I ask, not even blinking.

His eyes darken in disbelief. "I may have to look that one up..."

Turns out, there is a Cirilla's on the way to the hotel. I force the driver to sit in the parking lot while I go into the sex shop. The door jingles as I step into the small building. I make eye contact with the woman at the cash register and smile pleasantly. Then I get to work. I pick up some handcuffs, a riding crop, flogger, a ball gag and some some new garters (a client of mine destroyed my other pair).

"Will this be all?" The woman asks me in a chirpy voice.

"Yes." I whip out my shiny debit card and hand it to her. She rings up the items one by one and then hands them to me in a large bag. "Have a nice day." I exit the store and walk confidently to the town car. "I'm ready to go to the hotel now."

"Very well..." the driver sighs.

I step out of the car, my Cirilla's bag in hand, and I come around to the back of the car to get my suitcase from the driver. I tip him generously and thank him for his discretion.

"Mr. Scherzer said that your room key will be available at the front desk. Enjoy your stay here." He slams the trunk and quickly gets into the car.

I smirk and begin to pull my suitcase behind me toward the hotel. I step through the doors and walk up to the front desk.

"Welcome! You must be Miss Strong!" The perky woman behind the desk says, flashing a forceful smile.

"Yes, I am..."

"Well, here's your two keys to the two rooms." She hands me two plastic cards.

"Two rooms?" I ask, confused.

"Yes, the one is for Mr. Scherzer's room and the other is for your room. It looks like you will be staying two nights with us."

"Oh," I murmur, trying to hide my embarrassment and rage. "Thank you," I say, clearing my throat.

"You're welcome. If you need anything, just let me know!"

I grip the two keys in my fist as I get on the elevator. I hit the _'3'_ button and exhale through my nose. I decide to stop by Max's room first to... chat with him.

I knock on the door, trying not to bang my fist against it too hard. "Are you fucking kidding me?"

"What?" Max asks, puzzled. It looks like he just got out of the shower-his hair is touseled and damp.

"You have staying in _your_ hotel with _your_ teammates?" I practically yell.

"Okay, calm down. Come in the room so no one hears us..."

I enter the room and let the door slam behind me. "What are you thinking, Max?"

"I just figured it woud be fun-like more scandalous."

"Ugh! I can't believe this. Do you _want_ to get caught? My reputation is on the line here too, you know!"

Max is quiet for a moment, thinking. "I'll pay you triple."

That shuts me up. _Triple_? I could really use the money. Business is good but not that good. I clear my throat, swallowing my pride. "Fine. I'll stay. But now I'm _really_ going to have to punish you."

The pitcher crosses his arms, smiling. "And I'll be looking forward to that. Now, go get changed. I'll be needing my beating tonight."

"Tonight?" I whine.

"Yes, tonight. Now, _go_!"

I huff and leave the room to go find mine. I realize that it's just down the hallway and a pit forms in my stomach. I walk passed all the closed doors, knowing that there are Tigers behind them.

I get changed quickly. I put on a black patent leather corset, black frilly boyshort panties (I'm not into that g-string crap), and my knee-high patent leather platform buckle boots. I try to keep my hands from shaking as I put on my classic black cat eye and bright red lipstick. I empty the contents of the Cirilla's bag into a black gym bag I brought, put on a long black trench coat, and then I'm ready.

I peer my head out the door, making sure the coast is clear and then I briskly walk down the hall. I use my key to get into the room and I find Max waiting patiently by the bed, down to his black boxer briefs.

"On the bed-now," I order, taking off my coat. Max flinches at the tone in my voice and then he complies. "Spread 'em."

Max outstretches his arms and legs, pointing toward each of the bed posts. I grab the handcuffs out of my goody bag and cuff him to the bed. I then take the gag ball in my hands and I climb onto the bed. I straddle his waist, running my fingertips along his cheek. I wrap the gag ball around his head, strapping it on. I can feel him grow harder beneath me. I smirk to myself. _Perfect._

I get off of Max and stand close to the bed. I pick out the riding crop from my goody bag and take a deep breath. I run the end of the riding crop softly against his thigh and then I quickly pull my hand bag and smack him as hard as I can. His cries are muffled by the gag ball.

"No! No crying!" I hiss, whipping him again. "You've been a very bad boy, Max... now it's time for you to be punished!" _Whack_. "You're nothing, I tell you-nothing!" _Whack._ "You're just a small little bug that I can easily squash!" Whack.

Max's brows arched and furrowed with each hit of the whip. The skin along his thigh and abdomen are bright red and he is hard as a rock. Sweat slowly drips down his forehead and temples. The bed creaks as his arms and legs try to pull away from the posts to shield himself. It is a horribly delightful sight-a sight that I live for.

Out of nowhere, I drop the riding crop and I straddle him once more. I lean in close. "You're a small speck of dust in this world, Max. You live in a false reality. There's nothing special about you." I pinch his nipples between my thumbs and index fingers and twist as fast as I can. He groans in pain and pleasure. "You're nothing! Say it! Say that you're nothing!"

"I'm nothing," he chokes out, the gag ball distorting his speech. I squeeze harder. "I'm nothing!" His eyes grow intense and he throws his head back, reaching his climax.

"Good, glad we're on the same page." I maneuver off of the pitcher and I leave him, panting, on the bed, still cuffed. I grab a small baggie and a lighter out of the larger bag, picking a joint out of the bunch. I put it between my teeth and I put my trench coat back on. I open up the sliding door to the balcony and I light it up. I take a long, drawn out drag, keeping the smoke in for as long as possible. I then blow out through my nose.

I finish the joint, flushing the butt so that Max isn't held responsibe. I uncuff him and he rips off the gag ball. "Was this really necessary?" He hold the red ball up.

"It was to make sure you weren't too loud. "_You're welcome._" I chuckle to myself. "Hey, I never did ask you... how do you explain the bruises to your teammates? It's not like you slide or anything."

"Actually, no one has really asked. I don't really think anyone stares at anyone else when we're in the lockerroom." He laughs softly. "So are you going to stick around or head back to your room?"

"I better leave. Thanks for the offer though." I half smile at him. I gather up my tools in the gym bag and I tighten the waist tie on my trench coat. I look at Max and I lean in to kiss him on the cheek. I don't say anything as I leave. I look to my left toward my room, still smiling to myself.

"Um, can I help you?" A deep voice asks from my right.

I freeze. _Oh shit!_ I slowly turn to face the man and I'm surprised to find Alex Avila, wearing blue pajamas pants and a white T-shirt, standing in front of me. I clear my throat. "Um... I'm just a friend of Max's. I was just visiting him..."

Alex looks me up and down, noting my boots. "Uh-huh..."

"...he got me a hotel room in your block."

"Which way is your room?"

I point behind me. "That way..."

"Good. The ice machine is down that way. I'll walk you to your room." He smiles.

I then realize that he is holding an ice bucket. "Oh... okay..." I smile a little bit.

He begins to walk past me and I follow him. I'm almost as tall as him in my five-inch boots. "I'm Alex, by the way."

"Elizabeth..." I hold out my hand and Alex shakes it.

"Can I ask you a question?"

My blood runs cold. "Uh, sure?"

"How do you walk in those boots?!" Alex's gaze is glued to the shiny leather.

I exhale, relieved. "Oh, you know, practice..."

The rest of the walk down the hallway is silent. We take turns glancing at each other. We reach the ice machine and Alex puts the bucket in place and presses the button. I stand there patiently, desperately wanting to get to my room.

The ice stops dispensing and Alex eyes me carefully. "You're not a prostitute, are you?"

My eyes grow wide. "What? No! God, no!"

Alex then grows red, realizing that his question was competely uncalled for. "Oh, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to offend you! I just thought because of the boots and the fact that you were coming out of his room in the middle of the night..."

"No, it's fine. I totally understand where you got that from. I kind of do look like a hooker."

Alex's lips fold into a tight line and there is a moment of silence. "I'm sorry," he says again.

"Alex, it's _okay_. Listen, I've got to go. But I'll probably see you around?"

The catcher doesn't say anything at first. "Yup," he croaks, still clearly embarrassed.

I stroll across the hall and slide my key into the lock. I open the door slightly and then turn around and wave at Alex.


	3. A Catalyst

I enter the gym down on the first floor and I am pleased to see that it is empty. I tend to come a little later than most people. But that's because I enjoy sleeping in. I spot a treadmill across the room and I make my way over to it. I put my water bottle in the compartment and turn on my MP3 player, picking out my workout mix (an array of angry and intense Nine Inch Nails songs to get me pumped). I slide the small electronic device into my arm sleeve and I hop on the treadmill.

I am normally not one for just running aimlessly, but it's really all I have. I normally do Billy Blanks' Tae Bo workout DVD's, but I don't have enough space in my hotel room. So, treadmill it is.

As my feet hit against the exercise machine and sweat begins to bead at my hairline, my mind wanders to my most tenacious client. I think about how I kissed him on the cheek. I definitely regret that. Max is a sweet guy and I really appreciate that, but I have a persona when I'm with a client. I'm not supposed to show compassion. I definitely won't be doing that again; don't want Max getting any ideas.

A surprising person then pops into my head-Alex Avila. Man, do I feel awkward about that. He could have easily caught Max and I. I wonder if he heard any of the whipping or Max's cries. God, that would be so embarrassing for Max and unfortunate for me. I would probably lose my best client.

The timer goes off on the treadmill and it slowly comes to a stop. I step off and go to the open space to my left. I sit down and begin stretching. Sit-ups and push-ups next.

But, I mean, Alex is really cute. I would be curious to find out if he was a dom or sub. People who are against BDSM preach about how what we do is a sin and it's sick and twisted. But what they don't realize is that _everyone_ is either a dom or sub. It's rarely equal ground in the bedroom. There can be only one leader and then follower(s).

Now that I think about it, Alex probably did hear us and, thinking it was just "normal" sex, and came to the idea that I'm a prostitute. I don't really blame him. A mysterious woman exiting his room in the middle of the night? Just call me a woman of the night! I wonder if he actually believed me when I told him that I was just a friend...

I stand up and walk over to the stack of towels. I wipe my face off and take one ear bud out. Taking a swig of water, I leave the exercise room. All the Tigers have left for their day game with the Indians so I can just waltz up to my room and not worry about any of them seeing me.

I take a long shower in my room and then, after putting curling spray in my hair and brushing it out, I put on a black bra and panties. A fluffy white robe, courtesy of the hotel, goes on after that.

I turn on the television and begin to search through the channels; nothing good. I land on the baseball game and I sit for a moment. I never really got into baseball, or any other professional sport.

After not finding anything interesting on TV, I decide to bust out my laptop. I do the usual: check my e-mail, Twitter, Facebook, Tumblr, Reddit, and some BDSM community message boards that I subscribe to. I get bored so I pull out my my handy-dandy vibrator. Masturbating when I'm bored is a common occurrence in my life. It may seem sad but it's just how I live.

As I pack away my sex toy, I hear a knock at the door. I inhale a shaky breath, still overcome by my recent orgasm. I tidy up my robe and I padded to the door. I cleared my throat and opened it, praying it's Max.

"Hey," he says.

My prayers are answered! "Hey, how was the game?"

"We won!" Max seems frenzied and like he is in a hurry.

"Great job! That means you won the series, right?"

"Yes! Um, but, I have something I need to tell you..."

I turn my head slightly, eyeing him carefully. "Go on..."

"Um, you and me and some of the other guys are going out to dinner tonight..." He winces, already predicting my reaction.

"_What_?" I hiss. "How? How do they know about-wait, did Alex suggest I come?"

"Um, yes, actually. He told me about you meeting him the other night and since you told him that you're my friend, he wanted me to invite you." Max smiles.

I cross my arms. "Did he also tell you that he asked me if I was a prostitute? Did he mention that he thinks we're fucking?"

"He doesn't think we're fucking," Max brushes off.

"Yeah, he does-he totally does. Why else would he ask me if I was a prostitute? He probably heard us the other night."

Max freezes for a moment, seriously considering the though. He then snaps out of it. "No, that doesn't matter. What does matter is that you're going to dinner with some of the guys and me at a _nice_ restaurant. Now, get ready!"

Before I can protest, he walks down the hallway and into his own room. i let out a soft groan of frustration and then recede back into my hotel room. "Nice?" How vague is that, but I try my best. Luckily, my hair was already done so I adorn a black fit-and-flare dress with red roses, black heels with red tips, and ruby earrings and necklace. I then apply a charcoal smokey with a hint of purple and light pink lipstick.

"Ready?" Max asks, standing in the hallway.

"Let's get this over with..." I grumble.

"That's the spirit!" The pitcher laughs.

I hook my arm with his and note the other players in the hallway: Torii Hunter, Ian Kinsler, Rajai Davis, and of course... Alex Avila. "This is all who's coming?" I ask, surprised.

"Yup; everyone kind of breaks up into groups sometimes depending on where people want to go to celebrate," Max answers.

"I guess without me, this would be a sausage fest, eh?" I smile humorously.

"If you want to look at it that way, be my guest." He turns his head. "Guys, I want you all to meet my friend, Elizabeth. She's been staying at the hotel in our block."

We all exchange hello's and other greetings. I can feel their eyes on me as we walk toward the elevator. Never have I felt so exposed-even with what I do for a living. I just keep to myself all the way to the restaurant because that is when the real shit begins.

The six of us are seated at a large table with a burgundy table cloth and small candles flickering before us. I'm sitting in between Max and Alex (oh, joy!). The waitress comes over and the men order champagne-"Keep the botte at the table."

We order our food and then the men immediately burst into chatter about their successful series against the Indians. I try to pay attention to it but it all really goes over my head so I just sit there quietly. A few minutes pass and I realize one Tiger has left the conversation... Alex Avila. I turn my head slightly and I smile at him.

"So..." Alex begins, obviously trying to break the awkwardness. "Where do you live?"

"Detroit," I say a little bit too fast. "But I'm from Grand Rapids."

"Ah, interesting. What brought you to Detroit?"

And then it begins: I start lying through my teeth. I tell him that I'm going to Mercy to become a physician's assistant and that I work at small floral shop. I explain to him how my family is loaded and that's why I can afford my apartment downtown. The lies flow out of my mouth with ease-I'm used to this. I really don't even bother asking him questions; he just naturally shares information with me.

Alex is nice-nicer than most of the guys I come into contact with. He has soft, kind eyes and an extremely pleasant smile. I realize now how attractive he really is as he nods and makes comments. I have such a thing for facial hair and thick eyebrows. Intimate thoughts creep into my head-a symptom of having an obsession with sex. I start to imagine kissing Alex, embracing him with great intensity. I picture myself feeling on his crotch, unzipping his pants, and...

"Elizabeth?"

"W-what?" I snap out of my day dream, blinking, and turn toward Max.

"We're leaving now," he chuckles.

I then notice all the other Tigers are standing around, waiting for me. I blush slightly and stand. "Right..." I mumble.

I'm quiet on the ride back to the hotel. I'm extremely embarrassed. Normally I have more self-control for my wandering my mind. Maybe it was just the stress of the day. Max is a handful to begin but _four_ other Tigers? That's just asking for trouble.

Just as I slide the key into the lock and open the door to my hotel room, Alex comes up to me. Before I he can say anything, I blurt out, "I had a really nice time tonight."

Alex looks somewhat surprised. "Yeah, me too." He pauses for a moment. "So will I see you around at Comerica Park?"

"Oh, no, I don't like baseball," I say with nonchalance.

The catcher's jaw drops but then he catches it. "How are you friends with Max Scherzer and you don't like baseball?"

"I don't know. I just never got really into it." I shrug.

"I'll have to change that!" He laughs awkwardly, like he regretted saying that. "Well, since I won't see you at any of the games, could we exchange phone numbers? You know, to keep in touch... since we had such a great time tonight."

My eyes widen, shocked that Alex Avila actually asked for my number. I've been known to be extremely intimidating, but I guess he hasn't seen me in my corset with a riding crop in my hand. I really shouldn't but I want to so badly. Max would probably kill me for fear that his secret pasttime with be brought out of the shadows.

"Sure," I say firmly. I pull my phone out of my purse and open up a _New Contact_, handing it to the major leaguer. He does the same for me. "Well, I guess I'll see you around."

"Yeah, definitely!" Alex waves a little and then retreats back to his own room.


	4. An Exclusive Deal

It feels amazing to be back in Detroit; back in my own apartment; my beautiful king size bed. That trip to Cleveland was definitely the most interesting one I have ever taken. Damn that Max Scherzer! He has a knack for getting me into trouble.

Just as I sit down on my couch to hop on my computer to check my work e-mail, my phone vibrates. I check the I.D. and... speak of the devil!

_Hey, can you come over?_

I shake my head, smirking. _Sure. What do you want this time?_

_Bring your punisher stuff-especially the paddle._

Ooh, role play; this is a special occassion. _I'll be over soon._

I jump up from my couch and head for my bedroom. I change out of my sweats and into black skinny pants, a black V-neck, leather ankle booties, and my classic leather jacket. I walk over to my wardrobe-a beautiful mahogany piece that contains my whips, paddles and other accessories. I pick up my two paddles of two different sizes. My gaze switches back and forth between the two and I decide to go with the bigger one. I grab my black gym bag and fit it with other goodies, including my "costume" for this occasion.

I throw my bag in the passenger seat of my bright blue 1964 Cadillac Eldorado and start the car up. I have the route to Max's house memorized-we have a lot of our meetings there since it's quiet and discrete. I drive there in silence.

"Did you bring it?" Max asks, eager and ready to go, when he opens the door.

"Of course I did. You're the one who's paying me. Outside the bedroom, you're the boss. And inside-" I grab Max's chin, "I am."

Max's eyes widen. I never know which one to look into. But they are a sight to see when he climaxes; bright, piercing blue and deep, calming brown. Hot damn.

"Let's get to it then..." Max gestures for me to lead the way. He follows me through the house and to his bedroom. "You can change in the bathroom..."

I take the bag in my hand by the handles and step over to the en suite. I notice the double sinks, the two shower heads. It makes my heart sink a little. Max may be paying me to beat him but I actually do care about him. I hope that he can find his own woman soon.

I exit the bathroom in full costume-a black push-up bra, a black blazer, a black pencil skirt with a slit that goes all the way up, black stilettos, and, as a finishing touch, thick-framed glasses. There really isn't a specific title for this ensemble, but we just roll with it.

I walk around to the other side of the bed, where Max is standing. He stares at me, drinking in my appearance. I smirk as I notice a twitch in my left hand. He's ready. I grab the paddle from my bag and tap it expectantly against my free hand as I stroll back over to Max.

"On all fours," I bellow. Max flinches at my sudden outburst, but quickly follows orders. "Remove your boxer briefs." He does so. "Any last words?" I smirk and raise the paddle.

"I'm a bad boy..." Max says quietly, excitement rattling his voice, "...and I need to be punished."

Something grows inside me-an overwhelming feeling of power and lust. This is what I live for. I need this to stay sane, even though it seems _insane_. And in this moment, I flash back to that moment when I was five years old-holding my best friend's hand on her little princess bed as her dad stood before us, unbuckling his belt and unzipping his pants...

"Elizabeth?" Max whispers, turning his head to look at me.

I snap out of the flashback, blinking a few times. I clear my throat and my mind. "Who's your master?" _Whack!_

Max winces in pain and shock. "You are!" He yells.

I can still see in his eyes that he's worried about me but I ignore him. "I can't hear you!" _Whack! Whack!_

"You are! You are my master!" Max's fingertips dig into the carpet.

"Who is nothing?" _Whack!_

"I am!" At this point, Max grabs ahold of himself and begins to slowly pump his hand on his member.

I continue to hit him with the paddle and he continues to pleasure himself. I try my best to keep the thoughts of my past away but they linger in the back of my head. I don't even realize that Max is begging me to stop.

"Elizabeth! Stop!"

"What?" My arm goes limp and I drop the paddle. I run my hand through my thick black curls, pick up the paddle and walk over to my bag.

"Elizabeth? Are you okay?" Max walks over and puts his hand on my shoulder.

"Yes! I'm fine! I'm just having... an off day."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"No! Just... get dressed... please." I feel Max leave my side. I zip up my bag and turn, face flushed. "Listen, you don't have to pay me for today... that was really unprofessional."

"On the contrary, I have an offer for you." My head tilts and my brows furrow. Max walks over to me to the point where our faces are other a few inches apart. "I would like an exclusive deal."

"What? What do you mean?"

"I want to be your only client-"

"-No way! I can't afford that!"

"I'll pay you as much as you're making now. It would only be for the rest of the season."

I think about it for a moment. Max is my favorite client and I would get to travel, as risky as it is. "I'll do it!" I chirp, not really thinking it through.

"Perfect! We can set up a date to draw up a contract next week." Max smiles that stupid, goofy grin of his. My phone buzzes and I pick it up. "Who is it?"

"It's Alex..."

"What does he want?" Max asks, his tone slightly changing.

"He wants to have dinner tonight!" I smile brightly. I haven't been asked out on a real date in what seems like forever.

"Really?" Max's head tilts to the side. "Are you going to go?"

"Of course!" I exclaim, my demeanor immediately changing. "I had a really nice time with him when we went out to dinner in Cleveland!" I look at my phone again to check the time. "Oh! I better get changed and go!" I run to the bathroom and I peel off my sexy punisher costume and change back into my normal outfit. I exit the bathroom and grab the money out of Max's hand. "Thanks for everything, Max." I smile at him.

He smiles back. "You're welcome," he whispers. Max clears his throat and pats me on the arm. "You better go..."

I smile wider and then walk out of the bedroom. On the ride back to my apartment, I try to put together the best outfit I can for this occasion. I burst through my apartment door and run to my bedroom. I don't even bother putting all my tools and costume away-I just get straight to my date. With shaking hands, I get changed into black jeans, a black sleeveless chiffon top with a studded collar, heeled leather booties and a studded leather crossbody bag. Silver hoop earrings, a silver cross necklace and a silver smoky eye complete the look.

Alex texts me an address and then I'm out the door. I plug the address into the GPS on my phone once I get into my car. My heart is pounding so hard that I can hear it in my ears. I am so nervous. My phone announces that I have arrived at my destination-a house. His house? What is going on here..?

"Elizabeth!" Alex exclaims when he opens the door.

"Hey, Alex," I say quietly.

"Come in, come in!" Alex moves out of the way and gestures for me to enter his house. I walk in hesitantly. "You can head to the kitchen. It's right down the hallway on your left."

I smile and continue through the house. Several seconds later, I come to an open concept living room, kitchen and dining area. The kitchen is absolutely beautiful-state-of-the-art appliances, gorgeous stone countertops and then I notice bags of food on the island.

"You okay? You look kind of uneasy there..." Alex says, biting his lip a little bit.

"No, no, it's just... I was expecting us to be eating at a... restaurant." I clear my throat and brush some curls out of my face.

"Oh. I was just thinking that since it's my day off, it would nicer and easier if we stayed away from restaurants." Alex pauses. "But I mean, we could go if you want..."

"No! It's fine! We can eat here. You already got dinner. It's... fine." I smile confidently at him.

"Okay!" Alex returns the smile. "Well, you can sit at the table-"

"-Nope! I want to be of help!" The response comes out quick and awkward. I feel a pit form in my stomach.

"Alright, then you can set the table."

Alex shows me where the plates, glasses, and silverware are located. I set two place settings while Alex prepares the food. He got Greek-one of my favorites. I try my best to eat "like a lady" but I am starving. Work always makes me hungry, oddly enough. Alex and I continue our conversation from dinner the other night-fake work, fake life, fake everything, but real family and real (limited) interests. I feel like things are going really well.

"Oh! I have something for you!" Alex jumps up from his seat and goes down another hallway.

I wait patiently for a few moments until Alex emerges into the room once more. He hands me a DVD and my stomach twists with anxiety. _What is this_? "What is it?" I ask, getting a little nervous. What if Alex is really some kind of creep?

Alex walks back around to his side of the table and picks up our plates. "Well, you said you didn't like baseball and I thought I'd change that. It's a recording of one of our games. I thought we could watch it and I could teach the rules and aspects of the game. Well... only if you want to."

I try to hide a smile. His nerd is showing. But it's a different kind of nerd-_baseball_ nerd. I think about it a minute. We have been having such a nice time and I'm sure we'll have more dates like this one. "Sure, Alex, I would love to."


End file.
